The Search for Hope and Safety

We are told that EU officials are only now discovering that most of the “refugees” whom
they had welcomed into their countries are actually not refugees at all, but
are, in fact, the long heralded and dreaded economic migrants:
those hideous creatures whose eventual appearance onto the historical scene has
long been predicted by certain sociologists and economists. Yes, those
end-of-days creatures are now pouring into Europe, following the same treacherous trek as refugees. But
they are not in search of mere safety, as the refugees seek, but rather better
economic opportunities, ones that are not available in their countries of
origin, for whatever reason.

The impulse to separate economic
migrants from real refugees is understandable to a point. Many people feel
compassion for the plight of refugees and want to try to accommodate them, even if only on a temporary basis or until circumstances allow
them to return home. But they resist the idea of affording economic
migrants that same benevolent treatment. The burden of this group’s economic
expectations, they suggest, is something their own governments, not ours,
should shoulder—even if those governments happen to be unfair,
unrepresentative, and incompetent at economic management. If our doors are open
to migrants from North Africa, Europeans wonder, why not to every person in the
world who thinks quite rightly he would have a better life here?

The problem is that people are
not so reasonable when it comes to managing their expectations and sitting
still for their allotment in life—accepting that being born in Algeria or
Tunisia does not confer the same opportunities as being born a boat ride away
in Italy. Nor do human expectations neatly sort into separate packages—the
economic versus the political—to be handled by different agencies. Nor are our
destinies, or our economics, so separate that the impact of certain
developments “there” can be kept “there.”

Things have always been far more
complex than that. In the modern globalized world, there is no Las Vegas
principle—what happens there does not stay there.

First, it should be clear by now
that we cannot neatly separate conflict refugees and economic refugees. For
instance, those refugees leaving Turkey and taking the treacherous path across
the Mediterranean and the Balkans into Western Europe are not doing so because
their lives are under a physical threat in Turkey. Indeed, once they have
crossed the borders into Turkey, they no longer face immediate danger. But staying
in Turkey affords very limited prospects. It is not always clear whether
migrants realize this on their own, or if they are encouraged to reach this
conclusion by Turkish officials wishing to pressure Europe. And the line
between physical safety and economic aspirations is often blurred. Are these
people economic migrants or are they refugees—or both?

People who occupy the lowest rung
of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs still harbor the same dreams and expectations of
those who occupy the top rung. Not only there is nothing unnatural or immoral about
that, it is the very thing that makes us human. It’s perfectly possible, in
other words, to flee to safety and to the possibility of a better life.
Indeed, looking at economic refugees as a lesser class of refugees—as the law
tends to—ignores not only the bulk of human history, but human nature itself.
People will not respect geographic boundaries when their lot in this life is at
stake. The tendency is problematic from any state’s point of view; one
shouldn’t begrudge Europeans’ legitimate concerns in this regard.

But knee-jerk reactions, in the
form of populist anger and fear-mongering, are bound to make the situation
worse, as they tend to usher in demagogues whose agendas go far beyond the
issue of migration and diversity. What’s more, through their appeal to emotions
and willingness to manipulate (if not invent) “facts,” these demagogues leave
little room for real debate. By now, however, these populist figures and
movements have already joined the political and social stage, taking advantage
of the democratic process. Dealing with the challenges these perspectives pose,
therefore, will not be easy. Serious politicians cannot pander to popular
prejudices and misconceptions, as these figures are so willing to do. However,
they also cannot dismiss their electorates who voice certain legitimate
concerns as well.

The mixed messages now sent to
refugees is also problematic, as countries experiment with different approaches
and policies to address the situation, incorporating a variety of social,
economic, and political considerations along the way.

German Chancellor Angela Merkel poses for a Selfie with a refugee during a visit to the Berlin branch of
the Federal Office for Migration and Refugees (September 2015)

Germany is a case in point: not
long ago, German Chancellor Angela Merkel rolled out the red carpet for refugees, especially those
coming from Syria and Iraq. But now, after the Cologne mass sexual harassment
episode and the backlash it engendered, she is backtracking and now says that refugees should return home after the
Islamic State is defeated.

From a political perspective,
this reversal is understandable. But the reality remains that this is simply
not a satisfying response. ISIS’s defeat is years away, and much can happen in
the interregnum to alter the domestic situation for refugees in Germany—for
better or for worse, depending on the practical policies introduced now. People
will get married. They will have children. They will get jobs to which they
will become essential. Large migrations of people across continents don’t just
go back.

There is a need for a far more
honest conversation in Germany and Europe-wide. Measures like seizing refugees’
valuables to defray the costs of their accommodation—as is happening in Denmark, Switzerland, and Germany—might emotionally satisfy some domestic
constituency, but they are ultimately ill-considered and punitive in nature.
Furthermore, it makes little impact to the actual costs, while going a long way
to further alienating the refugees and make them feel unwelcome. When one
country adopts this kind of policy, it may create a financial incentive for
refugees to go elsewhere. But when lots of countries do it, it becomes just a
punitive tax on migration. And even the deterrent effect is minimal; most
refugees have so few possessions in the first place. As such, these policies
work to create resentment without having the intended practical impacts: the
refugees will stay, though many of them will be resentful rather than
appreciative. Ultimately, they will be neither integrated nor given enough
reasons to leave.

When it comes to issues of
integration, we must move beyond simple epithets and the related expectations
and assumptions. This is not a question of “good,” “well-behaved,” and
“well-intentioned” refugees versus “bad,” “misbehaving,” and “extremist”
refugees. Rather, we are dealing with a large demographic comprised of hundreds
of thousands of people whose behavior will run the gamut of the human
experience—the good, the bad and the ugly. In short, there will be all kinds of
people here, and historical precedent and geopolitical realities mean few will
ever leave. Even when ISIS is defeated, would you rather live in Iraq or
Denmark?

As such, managing the
expectations and needs of refugees is as important as managing those of the
nationals who now host them. Surely, some refugees might have controversial
views or criminal tendencies, and cultural differences may manifest in
objectionable ways. A successful integration strategy must account for this.
And while populist parties’ fear-mongering might score some local victories,
the long-term benefits will accrue to those parties which implement inclusive
and realistic visions.

Certainly, inclusion is only a
solution where the refugee phenomenon remains containable; the size and rates
of refugee inflows will have to stay within manageable limits to allow for
effective integration policies to take root in host countries. And controlling
the size and rates of refugee flows, in turn, calls for a more effective
response to the push factors involved in these migrations.

Conflicts are not only push
factor to worry about. Over the coming decades, environmental
disasters—including water shortages and drought—and the collapse of economies
based on fossil fuels, paired with continuing problems of governance and human
rights are expected to fuel state implosions and conflicts in a variety of
regions. These, in turn, are bound to lead to mass demographic dislocations.
Few countries around the world will be able to shield themselves from the
consequences, no matter the security risks or considerations of social
stability, nor economic and political costs of migration.

No one can stem the tide
completely, but managing the numbers requires being comfortable with a measure
of interventionism in certain countries and regions. We cannot examine this
problem simply through the prism of imperialism and anti-imperialism. We have
to look at it also through the lens of humanitarian concerns, in terms of the
future of Europe and NATO, through the prism of the rise of illiberal powers;
other concerns are bound to weigh heavily in the debate as well.

There are those in United States
and Europe who seem to think that their countries can barricade themselves
behind walls—physical, technological, and psychological—and by constantly
patrolling seas and oceans to turn them into moats separating a fortified fortress
of civilization from the barbarian hordes coming from less developed countries.
But these approaches are unrealistic and shortsighted, and fail to account for
the domestic tolls of such policies. Ultimately, the approach is based on a
strategy of ignoring the problem and hoping that it will just go away. When has
this ever worked? What wall held the barbarians at bay forever?

The search for hope and safety
has never been restricted to refugees and migrants; it is quest common to all
humanity. The current phase of our geopolitical development calls for a more
honest and open debate on the matter before we find ourselves facing the flood
with no plans at all.

Go ahead, patronize me!

About Ammar

Ammar Abdulhamid is a Syrian-American author and pro-democracy activist based in Silver Spring, Maryland. He is the founder of the Tharwa Foundation, a nonprofit dedicated to democracy promotion. His personal website and entries from his older blogs can be accessed here.

The Delirica

The Delirica is a companion blog to the Daily Digest of Global Delirium meant to highlight certain DDGD items by publishing them as separate posts. Also, the Delirica republishes articles by Ammar that appeared on other sites since 2016. Older articles can be found on Ammar's internet archive: Ammar.World